


this is a love song in my own way

by corgasbord



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Despair, Aromantic Character, Fluff, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Trans Characters, this is more of a relationship study than anything else, very mild nsfw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-09
Updated: 2017-08-09
Packaged: 2018-12-13 10:16:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11757720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/corgasbord/pseuds/corgasbord
Summary: One of the most important things Rantarou ever teaches Shuuichi is that love comes in many forms. Some are physical, some are friendly, and some are altogether difficult to put into words.





	this is a love song in my own way

**Author's Note:**

> i got a bit of a craving for amasai out of the blue, so i decided to explore a little more what i think their relationship might be like in an au setting, using some headcanons that i've grown fond of! they're both trans guys, and amami is aro-spec and gay. neither of them really feel inclined to date the other, but they do care about each other a lot and get really close - close enough to feel comfortable exploring each other's boundaries and whatnot.
> 
> due to the self-indulgent nature of this ficlet, i considered keeping it to myself, but decided to post it in the end because maybe some people will like it? amami and saihara's potential for a meaningful relationship is somewhat underrated, anyway, so here's a rare contribution of mine to their tag!

_i. first_

It starts with a clumsy kiss from across a table strewn with manicure tools, brief and exploratory. Shuuichi pulls back from it with a red face, heart pounding, but Rantarou simply regards him with a calm smile as though nothing happened.

“Are you sure that was your first kiss, Saihara-kun? You nailed it better than I did with mine,” Rantarou tells him kindly, and Shuuichi can’t help but wonder how his friend can be so unfazed when he feels as though his own world just got turned on its head.

“It was,” Shuuichi affirms with a nod, averting his eyes. “You don’t have to say those kinds of things to make me feel better about it, though. I’m well aware that I lack, er… experience.”

“I was being honest. Besides, that isn’t a bad thing. Everyone has to start somewhere, right?”

“I suppose…” Shuuichi fidgets, resisting the urge to wring his hands lest he ruin the fresh coat of polish on his nails. “If I’m being honest, though… I think I’ve always been afraid to. Uh, to start anything like that, I mean.”

“Ah… I understand.” Rantarou gives him a sage nod. “That isn’t necessarily a bad thing either, though. You’re allowed to figure these things out at your own pace, or not at all, if you don’t want to.”

“I do want to, though,” Shuuichi says, fixing Rantarou with an earnest look. “I have for a long time. It’s just… you’re the first person I’ve felt comfortable enough to try it with.”

“Is that so?” Rantarou almost looks surprised for a hot second, but then he smiles again and places a hand carefully over one of Shuuichi’s. “I’m flattered that you trust me that much, Saihara-kun. In that case, just know that you’re allowed to ask me for help or advice with anything that’s bothering you. Even stuff like this.”

“Um. Right.” Shuuichi nods, relieved, and purses his lips. He notes that Rantarou is wearing strawberry lip balm today, and wonders what flavor it will be if he asks to kiss him again later.

(He does. Of course he does, and the next time he tastes like melon, and the time after that he tastes like citrus, and the time after that he tastes like cherry, and the time after that Shuuichi forgets to note what flavor his lips are because he’s too busy focusing on the fact that Rantarou’s tongue is in his mouth.)

_ii. second_

Come summertime they visit each other often, and the heat doesn’t stop them from sharing each other’s warmth. If anything, it only enables them.

Or it enables Rantarou, at least, who doesn’t seem the slightest bit embarrassed to break their lazy, temperature-hazed liplock to ask, “Mind if I take my shirt off?”

Unsure that he heard Rantarou correctly, Shuuichi can only manage a dumbstruck “Huh?”

“I mean, it’s pretty hot in here, even though the AC is supposed to be on and everything,” Rantarou explains. “So I figured it’d be more comfortable for me to go topless… if you’re okay with it, that is.”

“Oh.” Shuuichi’s cheeks go from pink to red, but he nods, since he can’t think of any reason to be bothered by this development.

So Rantarou pulls away from him to sit up on his bed, tugging his shirt off and balling it up to toss it onto his floor. Shuuichi watches him, noticing that what he can see of the other boy’s back is even more freckled than his face, and that he’s also more toned than his baggy clothing would lead most people to believe. He doesn’t know why such minuscule details automatically tuck themselves away in his head, but they’re nice.

Then Rantarou peels away his binder as well, and Shuuichi goes rigid with surprise. “Whoa, hey-”

“Hm?” Rantarou rolls his shoulders and stretches his arms out in front of him with visible relief, then turns his head to look down at Shuuichi with his eyebrows raised. “What is it?”

Shuuichi stumbles over his words a few times before managing to string together a coherent sentence. “N- nothing, just. I wasn’t expecting you to go _that_ far.”

“Oh. Does it bother you?”

“No, not- not really! You just, um. You caught me off-guard, is all.”

“Ah.” Rantarou stretches his arms above his head next, arching his back. “Well, with how hot it’s been lately, I figure it’s better for me to bind less often, especially when I don’t need to.” He pauses and rubs at his neck. “If it’s weirding you out I can just put my shirt back on, though.”

“No, it’s fine,” Shuuichi assures Rantarou quickly, even as he turns his face away entirely. “That… that does make sense. I’d probably do the same thing, if I had your confidence.”

Rantarou hums, understanding. “That’s fair. You don’t have to do what I do- I hope you’re taking care of yourself when you can, though.”

Shuuichi doesn’t respond to that because he doesn’t really know how, but he doesn’t have to. Rantarou flops back into the space next to Shuuichi with a content sigh, and Shuuichi finally looks over at him again, still embarrassed but more composed than before.

Rantarou returns his stare with a blithe smile, and after a few seconds of silence his eyebrows lift, expectant. “What?”

Shuuichi hesitates. Then, empowered by either boldness or a rash impulse, he pushes himself up enough to squirm out of his own shirt, drawing a surprised noise from his friend. His fingers halt at the edge of his binder, just for a moment, and he hears Rantarou say gently, “Saihara-kun, you don’t need to force yourself.”

Shuuichi ignores him, wrestling his way out of the garment anyway, and with his chest bare he lets himself fall back against the mattress with arms crossed and his eyes fixed on the ceiling.

“Saihara-kun…”

“You’re right,” Shuuichi says, shifting his tense shoulders. “This is more comfortable.”

“You don’t look very comfortable,” Rantarou observes.

“It’s just nerves. It’ll pass.” Shuuichi’s fingers curl tight around his own upper arms. “I think… I think it’s the exposure. The idea of… of being touched or stared at here is the only thing bothering me, really.”

“Ah, I get it.” Rantarou nods and follows Shuuichi’s line of sight up to the ceiling. “That’s totally fine. I can keep my hands to myself.”

“Thanks. I appreciate it,” Shuuichi says, relaxing ever so slightly. “That said, though… um… I don’t mind if you kiss me again.”

“Oh?” Rantarou raises an eyebrow, than languidly rolls onto his side to face Shuuichi. “Is that right?”

Shuuichi chews anxiously on his lower lip, then stops himself before he can draw blood. “Mhm,” he mumbles, scooting close and finally forcing himself to meet Rantarou’s gaze. “I mean… you know that I trust you.”

Rantarou gives him such a fond look at that, reaching to brush his sweaty bangs out of his eyes. “I do know. It means a lot to me.”

Then he kisses him again, and again, and again, and instead of returning the sentiment properly he mutters into the prone skin beneath Shuuichi’s jaw, “You can touch mine if you want to, though.”

So Shuuichi summons the courage to do exactly that. His inquisitive hands roam Rantarou’s torso and Rantarou’s meticulous lips pepper their way across the salty skin of his neck, and they don’t stop until the heat saps their vigor and they no longer have the energy to continue or even stay awake.

_iii. third_

“Hey, Amami-kun.”

They’re sprawled out on Shuuichi’s bed this time, limbs splayed and most of their clothes shed, save for their underwear and Shuuichi’s binder. It’s simply one of those days when Shuuichi can’t determine whether the discomfort is greater with or without it on, so on it stays, even as Rantarou keeps fading in and out of consciousness next to him and a mid-afternoon nap starts to look more and more appealing.

“Hm?” The other boy snaps back into awareness at the sound of Shuuichi’s voice, tilting his head to regard him with half-open eyes.

Shuuichi pauses, then shakes his head. “Nevermind. It’s nothing.”

Rantarou blinks, then turns his body to better face Shuuichi. “If something’s bothering you, you can tell me.”

“Nah, it’s stupid. Sorry for disturbing you.”

“You weren’t disturbing me,” Rantarou says, frowning. “It doesn’t matter if it doesn’t seem like a big deal. Seriously, what’s up?”

“Well…” Shuuichi’s teeth close on the inside of his cheek out of habit, and it takes him a few seconds to notice and stop chewing at it. “I’ve been wondering for a while. Do you, um… do you like your body?”

“Do I like my body?” Rantarou echoes, mystified. “Hm… I’m pretty satisfied with it overall, yeah. Why do you ask?”

Shuuichi shrugs. “No particular reason. I was just curious.”

Rantarou gives Shuuichi a steady, serious look. “Saihara-kun… this isn’t really about me, is it?”

Shuuichi doesn’t answer, and his teeth resume steadily wearing away at the skin inside his mouth.

“Saihara-kun.”

Shuuichi releases his torn cheek and sighs. “Like I said, it's stupid. Definitely nothing you need to worry about.”

“It isn't stupid. I get how you feel,” Rantarou says, reaching to rub Shuuichi's upper arm. “For what it's worth, though, I like your body.”

“It's fine, Amami-kun, you don't need to say things like that to make me feel better.”

“I'm not just saying it for the sake of saying it. I mean it.” Rantarou gives his arm a squeeze. “I consider myself lucky that you trust me with it, honestly. And whoever you decide to trust with it in the future will be even luckier than I am.”

_The future, huh._ Shuuichi folds his hands over his stomach, brow furrowing with deep thought. “You… you wouldn't find it weird if I wanted to show you more, would you?”

“Never.” Rantarou leans closer, eyes hooded. “What do you want?”

“Um…” Shuuichi trails off, embarrassed. “Well, to start… kiss me again?”

Rantarou chuckles, light and airy. “Of course.”

And he does, and their lips fit together as perfectly as always. Rantarou only breaks from them to speckle Shuuichi's jaw with soft kisses, and Shuuichi shivers when he feels Rantarou’s breath on his ear. “Where do you like to be touched?”

Shuuichi opens his mouth, then closes it, then turns his face into the pillow slightly. “I'm… I don’t know, I’ve never really, uh…”

“Ah.” Rantarou understands and is patient, always so patient with him. “That’s fine. We can figure it out together.”

Shuuichi discovers a lot that day. He discovers that he likes the friction of Rantarou’s hand or thigh through his boxers. He likes Rantarou’s mouth, gentle against his own and everywhere else that he kisses, soft and careful and toothless, and he discovers that he loves it all the more when he trails it down, down, down to fit neatly between his legs. He discovers his own weakness with how quickly Rantarou’s perfect lips and perfect tongue and perfect _everything_ pull him apart and leave him too dumb to speak. He discovers that sometimes, he doesn’t have to say anything at all, because he can convey everything he needs to with a sloppy, hungry kiss as soon as Rantarou comes up for air.

He discovers that he doesn’t mind the taste of himself, but he still likes the way Rantarou tastes better.

_iv. home_

Shuuichi spends the whole of the summer wondering what he is to Rantarou, but it’s only a week before September when he thinks to ask, “Amami-kun, what are we?”

Rantarou appears bewildered at the question, pulling his chin off the top of Shuuichi’s head to look at him properly. “What do you mean?”

“I mean… well, I don’t really know how to go about defining our relationship,” Shuuichi says, sheepish. “It’s just something I’ve been thinking about.”

Rantarou tilts his head, pondering this. “Hm… well, the way I see it, we’re friends. Very close friends.” Then he starts to smile, almost cheeky. “In the past I might’ve even said we’re like brothers, but that wouldn’t be in very good taste now, would it?”

Shuuichi wrinkles his nose. “Oh, god. Don’t even joke about that- I’m being serious, Amami-kun.”

“You’re right, sorry.” His features settle back into an unfocused expression as he continues, “To be entirely honest, though, I’m not sure how else to describe it. We’re close, but I wouldn’t call this relationship romantic… as much as I care about you, I don’t exactly see you in that light.”

“I see,” Shuuichi murmurs thoughtfully. He wonders if he should be more offended by that. Perhaps such a statement would hurt if his feelings weren’t a nearly exact mirror for Rantarou’s. “I think I get it. But these, uh… these things we’ve been doing, these…”

“Trysts?” Rantarou supplies.

“Yes, those. Do you… do you enjoy them?”

“Of course I do. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t go along with them so willingly.”

“Ah. Sorry, it’s just that… sometimes I feel like you’re simply indulging my selfish whims,” Shuuichi admits, ducking his head. “You’re always the one making me feel better, or doing things because I ask you to.”

“That’s not true. I think this arrangement is good for both of us,” Rantarou says. “In a way, we’re learning from each other… or at least, that’s how I see it.”

Shuuichi glances back up at Rantarou with wide eyes. “You learn from me? What could I possibly be teaching you?”

“I’m learning about you, for one thing, which is just as important to me as anything else,” he replies. “Plus, I’m not really as experienced with this kind of thing as you’re giving me credit for.”

“You could’ve fooled me.” He would have expected Rantarou to know more than himself, at least, given the vast difference in their confidence. He pauses again, tentative, then continues more shyly, “In that case… I’d like to learn about you, too.”

“You’d like to learn about me?” Rantarou raises an eyebrow at Shuuichi, but Shuuichi gets the sense that he’s already guessed the meaning behind that statement.

“Let- let me do something for you, too,” Shuuichi says, face hot. “Just for you. Please?”

Rantarou meets his gaze evenly, then smiles again, slow and warm. “Go for it.”

Shuuichi does, and he learns for himself the little hitches in Rantarou’s breath, the sensation of him around one, two, three of his fingers, the way he talks with his nails by dragging them down Shuuichi’s sore back. He feels Rantarou’s teeth on his neck for the first time as he grinds out his own release onto the other boy’s leg, and it doesn’t hurt like he thought it would. It feels good, in fact, like something within him has finally been sated.

When it’s over, Rantarou kisses him and thanks him, and Shuuichi shakes his head and whispers back “No, thank you.” The haze of the afterglow makes him all the more handsome, and Shuuichi starts to think that he does love him in a way, but not the kind of way that warrants saying it aloud.

And so he doesn’t. He holds the emotion close to his chest instead, right next to his pounding heart, and smiles with the knowledge that it will endure even when their physical relationship cannot.


End file.
